Loathe Thy Enemy
by Mike Canary
Summary: While Squad 8 prepare for their new target, Imperial Intellegence becomes increasingly concerned with this new unit. Meanwhile, the Imperial drive towards Fouzen meets with fierce resistance. Chapter 6
1. Chapter 1 War

**_Hello. So, I've almost finished this game, so I decided to write a fic about it. It will follow a different Squad through the War portrayed in the game. It will have plenty of ingame characters, and I'm going to expand on some of the extra characters (I take requests). Basically, this is the War, but from a different perspective. _**

**_Squad 7 will make several appeaences fighting alongside this squad. Also, since several characters don't appear to later, I took advantage of that to make them a part of this squad. Basically, this Squad will have several members of Squad 7 in it, and this will explain what happened to them and how they came to join Squad 7. _**

**_Finally, this will also have several OC characters. _**

"Soldier." A passing soldier said with a respectful nod. Nick returned it, in too much of a hurry to stop and chat. He'd received urgent orders from Gallian High Command ordering him to proceed directly to the Room 132 where an emergency strategy session had been called. The fact that thet'd decided to interrupt his final exam and drag him out of the classroom meant it must be important.

Still, despite his hurry, Nick couldn't help but notice the magnificent architecture of the enormous command center. Built within the capital city of Randgriz, the HQ was practically a part of the enormous castle, taking up the east wing of the enormous royal palace. Despite the fact that it held some of the most advanced equipment, military and otherwise, the Gallian military could offer, it still seemed to have an old world feel to it. Instead of steel, stone walls that were centuries old lined Nick's path, and medieval defenses like arrow slits remained substitutes for proper windows.

Nick soon found the door he was looking for. Room 132. Command and Control for Advanced Intelligence and Special Ops. Pretty much one of the blandest rooms possible, with one of the most secretive histories. Before stepping in, Nick looked down at his clothes, straightening his baggy grey sweatshirt and jeans. He hardly looked like any of the spit and polish soldiers walking around. Then again, the military had also decided to not issue him a uniform once he got here. With a quick knock, he opened the door.

Inside, there were several officers, all apparently busy working on their own projects. No one so much as looked up at him. The room was dimly lit, except for a single lamp that shown from the center f the room over an enormous map of Europa. The map was covered with small figures, each representing both the Federation and Empire's troop positions. Wedged in between them was Gallia, the small country that's ragnite ore was becoming increasingly important for both sides. Standing over it was a clean cut man with a Commander's bars and stripes on his uniform.

He looked up as Nick approached the table and stood at attention. "Ahh, Nick." He said before Nick could greet him. "I see you don't remember me."

Nick stared at him, quickly racking his brains before the commander was insulted. However, none of the man's features seemed familiar. No, that wasn't true. In fact, all of his features seemed familiar. So familiar that they could have been on the face of any person he'd ever met. Everything about the man seemed painfully bland. His face wasn't too pale or too dark. He had no facial hair, or at least had carefully shaved. His hair was simple brown that was cropped short of his brow, and even his uniform seemed neither two clean or two dirty.

"I saw you during your military training after high school. You completed three courses of tactics, basic training, and intelligence gathering." The commander took a small clipboard from a waiting aide, looking it over. "According to this, your basic training results were average. However, it is your Tactical and Intelligence training that interests me. Your grades were…Impressive to say the least."

Nick felt the eyes of several of the aides in the room turn to look at him, boring into his back. Nick simply looked straight, keeping his eyes level with the Commander's. "I recall passing those courses, sir."

"Indeed." The commander agreed. "In fact, you have one of the highest scores I've seen since…Well, since Commander Varrot."

"Who?" Nick asked, scratching his chin.

"Never mind." The commander said, waving his hand dismissively. "The point is that recent events on the Empire-Gallian border have raised tensions to the point of being a step away from war. What we are most worried about is here." The commander pointed at the small representation of Gallia's border on the map. "The small town of Bruhl on the border. We lost contact with it, along with Army units that were stationed nearby. We fear the worse."

"Naturally." Nick said, leaning over the map table. "Bruhl would make an excellent jumping point for the Imperial Army to launch a full-scale invasion. They would be in position to cut us off from our northern ragnite sources."

"Exactly. Which is why I called you here." The commander flipped through his clipboard, and pulled one of the sheets of paper out. He handed it to Nick who looked down in curiosity. There was a long list of people written down, along with what looked like the names of their relatives. Nick squinted a little carefully. In retrospect, he recognized one or two. There was a boy named Oscar Bielert and a woman named Catherine O'Hara.

Oscar he knew from his in western Gallia, and Catherine had been his rifle trainer in militia training. He'd lost contact with Oscar ten years ago, when an Imperial raiding party had attacked their village. It had been a time where Gallia and the Empire were at peace, but that didn't stop certain Imp units from making incursions across the border for personal gain. Catherine had fought in the First Europa War as a sniper, and been rather good at it. At least, that's what she'd told the new recruits.

"Hmmm," Nick mused, "I see some things in common with all of these people."

"Explain." The commander said, holding his hands behind his back.

"Simple," Nick shrugged, "My parents were killed when my village was invaded by the Empire. I know Catherine O'Hara fought in the First War, and Oscar…Oscar was in my village when it was destroyed. So, all these people-"

"Have a reason to hate the Empire." The plain faced man finished with a nod of approval. "I see the rumors of your genius were true."

"99.76 memory recall." Nick corrected. "Eidetic in nature."

"A photographic memory. I can see how that would be useful." The man looked back down at his clipboard and nodded. "I think you may be just the man for the job we have planned. I am Commander Offensich." He held out a hand and Nick shook it hesitantly.

"I have a special operation I'd like to put into play against the Empire." Offensich continued. "In a week, Gallia will put its conscription plans into effect and begin mustering militia units, but I've had you drafted ahead of time."

"How thoughtful." Nick said drily. Offensich laughed grimly, indicating the map before them. "The Empire is predicted to invade soon. Before long, we will lose access to our westbound rail system. This will cut us off from the ragnite stores there, and the Empire will take control."

"Why not simply begin reinforcing those areas?"

"Because there is simply not enough time to move substantial troops there. Even if we could move a powerful force there via the rail system, they would be destroyed piece meal." Offensich pointed at central Gallia, the large flat area before Castle Randgriz. "Instead, all forces are being channeled here to hold the predicted Imperial advance before they reach the capital. I however, believe that is a mistake."

Nick watched as Offensich pulled a pen from his chest pocket and drew a line across central Gallia, then a second line going through the mountains to the north. "This line represents the line the Army and militia plan to hold." He pointed at the line over central Gallia. "While this line is a mountain pass that could, in theory, allow a small supply line to be established. It is extremely rocky and unstable. At best, a it will be able to carry small arms, but this could be used to help supply a guerrilla force behind the Imperial advance."

"Ah," Nick cried, realization dawning, "You want me to join that force?"

Offensich shook his head. "No, I want you to lead it."

"Really!?" Nick laughed without humor. "And I want to marry Princess Randgriz, but that's not gonna happen."

"No, I'm serious." The Commander assured. "This mission requires an extremely advanced tactical mind, as you will be fighting without heavy tanks or weapons. Even lances will be rare. I'm talking rifles and machine guns. You'll have to scavenge and steal, and a lot of you will probably die. However, your primary mission is to engage the enemy behind its lines and disrupt the Empire's ragnite mining as best you can."

"So basically," Nick growled, "You want me and about," He looked down at the sheet in his hand, "Twenty other's to pretty much commit suicide fighting miles behind the main battle line against hopeless odds." Nick pretended to think for a moment, then shook his head.

"No thanks, I'd rather live."

"Really?" Offensich said in mock surprise. His voice lowered slightly, so only Nick could here. "Cuz' I thought you'd think about your parents, dying as your town burned around you. Your friends being rounded up and shot to hell. Your old friend Chelsea-"

Nick lashed out, aiming a fist at the commander's nose. The man caught it in his palm, twisting so Nick's wrist jerked in pain. Nick dropped to his knees in pain, but snapped his leg out, smashing his shin into Offensich's ankle, but it was like kicking steel. The commander looked down at him in apparent disinterest.

"That's more like it." He side, leaning down, bending Nick's wrist and arm back even farther as he did. "That's what we need for this mission. No apathy, no respect for the enemy. I need a cold and calculating fury. I need someone who can take his rage and chill it, turn it into focus, killing Imperials with it."

The commander was close enough now that he was whispering into Nick's ear. Around him, the aids continued working as though nothing had happened. Obviously this wasn't a first for them.

"I choose you because you have this rage, this rage you've pent up for years. It's been bursting to get out ever since your parents. Ever since Chelsea-"

"Shut up!" Nick roared., trying to get to his feet. The commander applied more pressure. "Shut up you son of a-"

"Oh, don't let it all out." The commander said, releasing his arms. "I need you to hold onto it. Now," he said, getting on one knee I front of Nick. "I'm not giving you a chance to commit suicide in some glorious crusade. Rather, I'm letting you kill Imps."

"K-Kill Imps." Nick stammered, holding his throbbing wrist.

"Yes, you feel that." The commander continued. "That's rage. It feels good, burning through you, doesn't it? It would feel better, killing those who killed your parents, murdering those who murdered your love. You know it, I know it, and that's why you'll accept this mission." With that, Offensich reached into his uniform's jacket, and pulled out a white handled hand gun. It was a revolver, with a long barrel and six chambers for bullets. Its handle was made of wood, but was ingrained with ivory and pearls. It clearly held some type of significance.

"I'm giving you this weapon." Offensich murmured, putting it in his hand. "It's up to you to use it."

With that, Commander Offensich went back to his aides, murmuring and whispering plans and logistics to them. Nick got up, his anger still burning a hole through his stomach. He looked at the revolver in his hand, feeling the smooth feel of the handle and the sharp angles of the beautiful steel barrel.

"Your train leaves in two hours. Station three, platform 9." He said, not even looking at Nick. "You are promoted to Lieutenant and given command of the Squad 8 of the Special Tactical Assault Battalion."

"STAB?" Nick whispered to himself more than anyone.

"Why, yes." Offensich exclaimed. "Rather convenient acronym for this." He stopped; closing a folder he'd been reading shut. "Now go and stab the Empire's heart out before they stab ours."

* * *

Catherine O'Hara watched as the squad she'd been assigned to began loading into the train. Of course, by board, she meant pile into a freight car that was normally used for cattle and other produce. The sliding doors were held open by a pair of army soldiers while a third handed out weapons to them.

"The GSR-25R." The man said, handing her a scoped rifle. The weapon had a beautiful wood finish that seemed to shine in the sun. She'd have to do something about that.

"Accurate at up to 1200 yards." He continued, handing her an ammunition belt and utility backpack. "I suggest not trying anything past 1000."

"Why?" She asked, aiming down the sight.

"Because, it losses lethality at 900. Unless you get a head shot, it won't do much."

"Luckily," Catherine said, throwing the backpack over her shoulder, "I always get head shots." She strode away, trying to not look around at the many people and soldiers crowding into the freight car. Briefly, Catherine considered going back to HQ and requesting a different assignment. She had not been told a target, objective, or point to their mission. Honestly, that unnerved her more than the apparent lack of lancers in the battalion. Not to mention that she hadn't seen tanks or artillery being loaded onto the train.

"Makes you wonder where they're sending us." She murmured to herself. She threw her rifle onto the car floor in order to free her hands and pulled herself onto the train with a grunt.

"Probably to the western border." A voice behind her said. She looked down, and saw a young man, his rifle hanging by a strap around his shoulder, swing himself up after her. The boy was young, probably only in his early twenties at most. His hair was cut short and spiked back, revealing a large x-shaped scar on the right side of his forehead.

"Rumor is that the Empire has begun skirmishes along the border." The boy continued, holding his hand out. "Name's Oscar. Sniper."

"Your name's Oscar Sniper?" Catherine questioned in an amused voice.

"No, I…Oh, your messing with me." Oscar growled, "Careful. I only let my friends mess with me."

"Hm, then maybe we should be friends fast." Catherine smiled at the boy, patting him on the shoulder. "I'm Catherine. Also a sniper."

"Really!" Oscar said, still not smiling. "Sounds like we'll be working together."

"More or less. Ready to kill some Imps?"

Something dark flashed over Oscar's face, a brief scene of pain and anger. "Very, very ready." He said quietly, sitting down in the corner of the freighter. He began disassembling his rifle, working and cleaning each part with a red rag he wore at his side.

"Well," Catherine said, as the door to the train slid shut, blocking out the sun except for a few thin slits. "Looks like there's no going back now."

* * *

**_1230 hours._**

**_Day 1_**

**_Halfway to dispatch zone_**

Nick looked through one of the thin slits of the freight trains, watching the scenery flash by. He pushed the hood of his sweatshirt up, trying to catch some sleep before the train reached its destination. It would take about a full day before the train made its way.

"_That is,"_ He though, _"Assuming the Imperial's don't interfere."_The rumor was that, since attacking the skirmishes began along the border the Imperial incursions had gone deeper and deeper into Gallia. The worst of these said that their scouts had been seen as deep as Kloden, while the best (invariably government run newspapers) claimed the Empire had evacuated their positions on the border and payed Gallia back for damage done.

"Yeah, and maybe the Emperor will bend over and kiss our asses while he's at it." Nick still couldn't quite understand the logic behind their mission. The only thing it would do is pull the Empire's attention away from Randgriz. "And that's the point. Offensich wants to trade lives for time. That's why we're here."

According to the commander, he and his battalion were to wreak as much havoc as possible, rallying surviving militia units and army units into resistance cells. They would be resupplied through the mountain pass once a week by agents dispatched by headquarters. Their chief targets were supply lines, occupied ragnite mines, and enemy leaders. The heart of the enemy army.

Nick looked around at the men and women in his own car. Somehow, he doubted the Empire would take them seriously. Most of his troops were out of uniform, wearing a strange combination of the blue militia uniforms and street clothes. Many of their uniforms were essentially just the militia hats and blue armbands. Of course, he doubted that would make the Empire show anymore mercy for prisoners.

As for weaponry, most were lightly armed scouts and snipers. There were a few machinegun troopers thrown in, but absolutely no lancers, which could prove a problem if the Empire comes at them with tanks. His thoughts were interrupted suddenly.

"Sir." A girl voice said from behind, taking a knee next to Nick. "My name is Samantha. Call me Sam. I'm your second in command."

Nick looked up, turning his head to look at her. She was a young girl, very young and athletic. The girl wore a tight white top underneath a army green top that had no rank and matched her dark green pants. Shoulder holster was just visible underneath that. Inside, Nick could see the bulge of a pistol and more belts of ammunition. Her copper hair was short and held back by a green headband that wrapped around her head.

"I'm Lieutenant Nick." He said, crawling to his feet. "A pleasure."

"Yes sir." She said, standing at attention. "I figured I'd warn you that all the soldiers in this freighter car are ready to go and armed. "

"Right." He said, looking around at the men loitering around the car. "Make sure people stay frosty. Even when we're in this car, I don't really think we're out of danger."

"You expect an ambush?"

"I don't know." Nick confessed, "But-"

Nick found himself interrupted by a roar, and he felt his feet swept out from under him. A second later, Nick felt himself fly through the air. He heard, rather than felt the impact of his shoulder on the wall. He lay there for a second, his head throbbing. Then, everything went black.

**_I'll update soon. Please review! I'd love to here any suggestions or crits you have (Praise also accepted :). Also, if you want a certain character in, just request. I'm still prettty open plot wise. Have a happy Memorial weekend! (Or normal weekend if you're not in the U.S)_**


	2. Chapter 2 Ambushed

**_First of all, one of the reviewers pointed out a problem with my dating in the last chapter, so I went back and fixed that so that it wasn't during EW1. Thanks for the heads up, I totally missed that. _**

**_Originally, this was two chapters, but I decided to split them because it was getting so long. So, the second part should come soon. Also, I'm renaming the story._**

Nick was dimly aware of people yelling and screaming. He felt his forehead, which felt like he'd spent the day in front of a pair of speakers. He rolled over raising his hand to the light spilling from the open door. There was blood on it, but not too much.

"_Nothing lethal_." He thought. It was only then that the significance of the light shining down from above hit him. The door to the freight car was above him. "_What hit us?"_

Nick hauled himself up, grabbing the revolver from his belt as he did. Around him, his squad was coming to. The wounded were being tended and Nick saw Sam using the butt of her rifle to smash through the damaged wooden sides.

"Looks like a lancer sir." She said, looking through one of the cracks. "Terrain's not suitable for anything else."

"No Tanks? An advance squad?"

"Special Ops more likely." She answered. "I just glimpsed them, and they're already hidden again. Well trained. Probably sent ahead to disrupt communications and supplies."

"Ah, the same job we have."

"Sir," Sam said, dragging him back to reality as she dodged a shot from a sniper. "We have to eliminate them. Our mission relies on secrecy. If they get away, they'll bring the entire Imp Army down on us."

Nick nodded. "Agreed. How many are out there?"

"Dunno, they've definitely left a pinning force though. Snipers and scouts. Looks like Lancers have moved out, or they would have hit us again." She turned around and grabbed a pair of soldiers from the mess. "You two, what are your names?"

"He's Andrew and I-I'm Gabrial." Gabriel whispered, eyes wide as he coughed on smoke. Though the woods around them were quiet, they all knew more Imperials were out there, waiting. On the sloping ridges and the thick underbrush, the Imperials had the advantage in cover and angle.

"Sami, you and these two run a distraction. I'm going to get the rest of the squads in the cars moving."

"Right sir." She said, smashing through the splintered wood with one final swing. "I'll see you in a bit." With that, she turned, and opened up with her machinegun on the tree line, spraying it with bullets while Gabriel and Andrew rolled out, rifles already scanning for signs of enemy movement. From somewhere up in the brush sniper fire lanced out, barely missing the pair and punching holes through thing wooden walls.

Nick grabbed a few more soldiers, including a young woman with black hair and a Mag hanging from her shoulder. She had cold, dead eyes that made her look ruthless and cruel. "Help me get through this wall!" He ordered. "We've got to check on the other soldiers." The group nodded, and the girl with dark hair turned to the wall, leaning her face against it.

"Anyone on the other side, clear the way." She took a step back, turned her mag onto the wall, and opened up. The bullets chipped through the wood, spraying splinters across the destroyed freighters until a small hole was carved into the wall. Nick stuck his head in; careful to not expose himself, and then stepped in. The two cars were close enough to do so without exposing themselves to fire. This freighter ha obviously taken the brunt of the explosion. Men and women were scattered across the floor, wounded or dead. There was a gaping hole in the side where the lance explosive had hit, and the other side of the car had also been blown open.

Nick walked forward, keeping his back to the wall and his head undercover. "Trooper!" He whispered urgently to the black haired girl. "What's your name?"

"Jane." She said, not looking at him, already locking a clip into her mag. Her eyes were scanning the forest lining through the explosions hole. "Jane Turner."

"Listen Jane, a lot of these people are injured. I want you to start moving them to the other freight car since it has more cover." The woman nodded, and waved one of the men forward while she scanned the tree line with her mag. Two scouts stepped forward, and began dragging a badly burned trooper across the line of fire.

The air cracked with rifle fire, and one of the scouts fell, clutching his shoulder. The other scout dropped the man and jumped back, just in time to dodge a second shot from the tree line. Jane opened up with her mag, trying to pin the snipers down. The bullets whizzed harmlessly into the tree line.

"Damn Imps!" She roared as she reloaded. "Those snipers are using our wounded to drag us into the open." She cursed brutally, spitting in the snipers direction before another sniper's bullet forced her to duck again.

"Nobody move!" Nick ordered, readying his revolver. "Until those snipers are taken down, we can't move them." Nick leaned against the wall, sticking his head out every once in a while. The snipers were out there somewhere, but none of them had the range to bring them down. It was only a matter of time before they caught their small band.

"And the wounded sir." Jane said, a wild look on her face.

"We can't risk more of us being wounded." Nick reasoned, "And we don't have any long range firepower here at the moment."

"There were two snipers in this car." She yelled over another series of rifle cracks. "Where are they?"

* * *

Oscar woke looking up at the sky, spread-eagled as if he'd been relaxing on a warm sunny day. Of course, a second later, the ping of a bullet whizzing of a wheel of the overturned train car snapped him back to reality. He rolled onto his back, surveying his surroundings. Their car had taken a direct hit from the explosive, whatever it was, and was now destroyed.

He didn't jump to his feet, knowing that would just draw attention to his predicament. Instead, he carefully felt for his rifle, and pulled it close to him. Whoever was sniping, they hadn't shot at him yet. Probably thought he was dead.

"_Mistake."_ Oscar thought, cracking a small smile. Oscar closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly, listening. It was quiet, except for the occasional rat-tat of a mag or the pop of a rifle. Then he heard it. The sharp crack of a sniper rifle. "_To my left, up eight degrees_."

Oscar twisted, turning onto his belly and bringing his rifle up to his shoulder in one smooth motion. There, he saw a sniper, desperately reloading his rifle. Oscar centered it on the man's helmeted head, gently cradling it with the sights. He squeezed the trigger, and the man fell back, the metal from his helmet crumpled.

Oscar loaded another bullet into the chamber, jumped to his feet and leapt forward, rolling into the cover of the tall foliage. The position he'd been lying before was suddenly lit up by sniper fire, throwing dirt and sand into the air. Oscar, popped his head out, and saw about four scouts and one pair of snipers in cover just beyond the tree line. He had two shots left in his rifle before he'd need to reload.

"Might be a problem." He said to himself. "I'd have to hit three at least at a time. Impossible." Still, the snipers were the ones that had the squad pinned down at the train tracks. If he could just take them out.

Oscar felt the scar on his forehead, remembering that day. He reached for the red handkerchief hanging from his belt, feeling it between his hands. Rage suddenly boiled up in him, enveloping, protecting him, and he jumped from the bushes with steely resolve. He swung his rifle, drawing a bead on the first sniper. They hadn't noticed him just yet. His rifle cracked, and one of the snipers fell, followed swiftly by another. He ducked back down into the bushes as volleys of fire from the scouts shot towards him.

"_Now the scouts_ _will move forward and out_ _flank me._" He mused, grabbing his ammo bag. He could try to reload, but the scouts would reach him before he was ready. They knew he only had three shots per magazine, and that once they got close, he would be helpless.

A sudden anger surged through him as he saw the scouts rushing forward, eager to kill him. Oscar grabbed a knife from his boot, wrapping it in the cloth and leapt into the open. He roared, charging the scouts, who stopped in surprise. For a second, they didn't fire, but soon recovered and raised their rifles.

There was a series of cracks from rifles, and Oscar stopped. One of the scouts fell, clutching his chest where several bullet holes had appeared in his armor. One scout turned just in time to see a dark haired trooper leap at him, the hatchet in her left hand smashing his helmet. He fell back, his helmet split open, as Jane kicked his legs out from under him.

The remaining three scouts turned to shoot her; one was killed by a red haired woman firing a heavy mag-132 walked silently out of the brush, and another by a crack from a sniper rifle. Oscar's head turned, looking for the source of the shot. He finally found it, in a tree about ten feet above his head and twenty yards to his right.

"Hi Oscar." Catherine O'Hara waved down at him, as she lined up a second bead on the final soldier. She didn't fire though, instead simply keeping an eye on the final scout as he raised his arms in surrender. The rest of their squad had appeared now, at least, those who could walk, and had surrounded the lone scout. A young man in a grey sweatshirt and jeans stepped forward, talking to the man. Then, he nodded to Jane, who stepped forward and kicked the man to his knees.

* * *

Nick knew that Sam had been right, that the Imperial unit was part of a special squad sent ahead of a main invasion force. They were obviously a well trained squad. They'd managed to pin down and destroy almost all of his own squad. Plus, he knew that this was only half the squad. They'd been attacked by lancers, which his men had been unable to find. The rest of them had no doubt retreated, warning the main force.

He looked now at the captured scout, who had removed his helmet. He was a strapping young lad, with short curly, straw colored hair that was matted with sweat. His hazel eyes were wide in fear, but contained fear. The boy was obviously well trained to control himself.

"You are the advance force for an Imperial invasion." Nick stated. It wasn't a question. "You're going to tell us where they are."

"I will do no such thing." The boy spat. "I am Lieutenant Forde of the Empire's 30th Mechanized division."

"Okay, let me restate your options." Nick waved Jane forward, who was wiping her hatchet clean of blood and gore. "You tell us the precise location, numbers, and composition of the enemy force, or I let Jane here have a go at you." The woman smiled, her dark hair falling over her eyes as she smiled down at him. "She absolutely loathes Imperials. Don't quite know why though…"

"You destroyed the shop I worked in." Jane murmured coldly. "Filthy Imps killed everyone."

Nick looked sideways at her. "_Well, that explains another one of these soldiers hatred."_

"I'd tell her if I were you. Jane has a…Sadistic streak." The soldier looked down at the ground. He knew there was no lie in Nick's voice, and he knew what his only chance was. He was a loyal Imperial soldier, but loyalty only went so far.

"The Imperial Army is advancing across northern Gallia, but several divisions are cutting into southern Gallia, setting up a base at the Kloden Forest, and others are massing in central Gallia for a major strike at Randgriz." He looked up at Nick, his gaze steady. "We were told this campaign would be finished in a few months at most."

"A quick strike," Nick mused, "is easy to bog down." He nodded at Jane, who grabbed the man from behind, dragging him across the ground. She hurled him away as the rest of the squad formed into a line behind her.

"Wait!" The man yelled, panic rising in his voice. "You said-"

"I said I wouldn't let Jane have you." He waved her away, and she left him there, lying on his knees. "I never said we'd let you go." Nick raised his right hand, making a fist. The Imp scout scrambled to his feet, running from the squad of Gallians. He stumbled as he ran, trying to flee into the woods in his heavy armor.

"Fire."

There was a loud series of cracks as every rifle from the squad went off and the scout's body twitched as the bullets struck him, forcing him first to his knees, then to the ground. Jane strode towads the body, turning him over with her boot.

"Dead." She pronounced, spitting onto his face as she did. Jane holstered her hatchet as she spoke. "What do we do with them?"

"String'em up." Nick ordered, looking around at the men and women. "All of them. We'll show the Empire what happens when you mess with Gallia."

* * *

Zytreet was a man better known as Zytreet the Lynx. He'd fought in EW1, and had reenlisted as soon as EW2 began. He was an almost legendary soldier in the Imperial ranks, and had killed hundreds of soldiers over the years. He'd seen things. That was the only way to put it. However, this was something new.

Hours ago, a small detachment of a special ops unit had returned. They claimed to have pinned down a squad of Gallian soldiers on the rail tracks after ambushing the supply train as ordered. They'd retreated with their heavy weapons to bring reinforcements, leaving a small force to keep them pinned down. Zytreet, commanding the special ops detachment, had decided that this was a perfect opportunity to destroy the small Gallian detachment before they could escape.

"_It would have been a nice way to begin the war_." He thought, pushing one of the hanging bodies out of the way with the tip of his rifle. Somebody had killed his soldiers, hanging their mutilated corpses from the tree boughs. Most hung from their arms, but a few had been hung while still alive. Wounded, and ripped apart while still alive. Zytreet had never seen anything like this, even in his first war. They'd been used for target practice, big targets painted onto their bodies with some type of red paint.

"Some type of a local clay." One of his scouts proclaimed, fingering the paint on one body. He rubbed it off, and began working one of the bodies down.

"They were busy." Zytreet answered, still searching the ground.

Zytreet knelt down, searching and finding tracks in the dirt. "They were here an hour ago." He declared, walking in a crouched position along the trail their foot prints made.

"Yeah." One of his soldiers said, a quiver in his voice. "Corporal, help me get these bodies down." A trooper rushed to the man, letting his rifle hang on a strap over his shoulder, and they began to cut the ropes holding him above the ground.

"Yeah." Zytreet said. "Most of these tracks are going back and forth between the bodies… No wait!" Zytreet whirled, but it was too late.

An explosion rocked the forest, sending splinters through the air like shrapnel as dozens of grenades attached to the tree trunks were activated as the first grenade, hidden on the man's dead body was tripped.

Zytreet dropped to a prone position as the air filled with deadly projectiles. He watched one of his men fall, pierced through the waist by a massive splinter, while another man standing too close to one of the hanging bodies was blown away by a grenade. After a moment, the explosions stopped and Zytreet pushed himself into a crouch, knowing the enemy could have been watching.

One uninjured man ran through the rapidly spreading fire and smoke. "Get your head down!" Zytreet barked irritably. The man obeyed instantly, taking cover next to one of the few intact trees.

"They booby trapped our dead sir." He said, locking a clip into his rifle. "Bastards."

"Clever bastards." Zytreet corrected. "The mutilations weren't just for show; they hid the grenades in their bodies and in the trees, then connected them with wire, so if one went off, they'd all go off." He raised his rifle to his face, scanning through the scope. "Looks like we're clear, but get the men together and have them set up a perimeter. Also, send a runner back to HQ, and tell them one of our advance units has been mauled."

"Yes sir." The man sprinted off, still for scanning enemy sharpshooters. The boy didn't seem to comprehend what type of trap this was. The enemy wouldn't sit anywhere near this type of explosion. No, they were long gone. He turned back to the trail of footprints leading off into the dark woods.

"_No, they aren't long gone_." The thought grimly, picking up his rifle and following the trail.

* * *

Nick took role call. According to Samantha, there were about eleven left in their little squad. Nick and Sami, of course, were there. There was also the pair of snipers Oscar and Catherine O'Hara, who seemed to stick together on the outside of the group. Catherine had evidently survived the explosion of the car, and immediately went back into the fight.

Gabriel and Andrew had survived and were now talking amongst themselves. The two were polar opposites. Gabriel had straw blond hair that he kept buzzed very close to his scalp, while Andrew's hair fell in long strands over his face and back. Gabriel was short, barely coming up to Nick's shoulder, while Andrew seemed to tower over everyone. However, they both seemed to share an extreme hatred of the Empire. They'd certainly taken to the booby traps like fish to water.

There was also Jane, who seemed quiet except when she was killing Imps. It was her idea to hide the grenades inside the bodies, instead of just strapping them to the outside. However, the standing ovation for the trapped belonged to a young woman named Ako. The young girl wore a long, tan jacket that stopped about a foot below her knees, and shorts that stopped above her knees. Her eyes were sharp, but her mind seemed sharper. Her hair however, was short, held back by a blue head band that blended with her dark, almost violet, hair.

She'd come up with the first idea of ambushing them. Of course, her idea involved them staying and, 'Taking all the stinking Imps down with us'. While Nick admitted he shared her enthusiasm, he'd modified the plan a little, so that when the explosions went off, they were miles away.

The final three members of their squad were all injured. Solomon, a scout, had lost his left green eye to the enemy shrapnel. He'd wrapped it in cloth from his kaki jacket, wrapping around his face and through his shaggy brown hair. He was helping Ash to walk on a shattered ankle.

Ash was, as his name suggested, a very tan man who looked as though he'd been rolling in dust half his life. More than that, he looked as though his very skin had taken on the color of sand. Supposedly, he came from one of the deserts to the south, but Nick knew that couldn't be the whole story as, besides the skin, he looked nothing at all like one of the desert folk.

Finally, there was Shaitel. He was nursing a badly burned arm that he worried wouldn't work again. He'd been a doctor before the war, and had been called out in order to serve as a medic to Squad 8 in Spec Ops. The old man had once had a rather long beard, but most of it had burnt off during the attack, along with most of his chin. He had refused to wrap it, insisting that they saved bandages for injuries that could be healed. Occasionally, he would actually scratch it, hitting bone. In a group of men and women who didn't flinch much, he seemed to make them uneasy.

"All right people." Nick said after a brief rest. "We'll set up camp here. Now, anyone know where we are?"

"You don't?" Ako asked with a touch of sarcastic humor.

"Well, having the train we were riding blown out from under me and then having to run several miles through the wilderness with Imperial Army units on our trail...Kinda turned me around." There were grim laughs from the circle of soldiers. They shifted slightly, all of them seeming a little more alive.

"We should make for the nearest town." Andrew said, surveying the woods. "We'll get supplies there and maybe directions."

"Yeah." Sam agreed. "Assuming it isn't occupied."

"More Imps the better." Oscar murmured, cleaning his disassembled rifle with that red rag he always kept at his side. Jane grunted in approval at his comment.

Nick surveyed them all, trying to get a bead on who they all were. He knew they all had reasons for hating the Empire, but he didn't know what they were. So, he decided to ask.

"When, I was given this command," He began, "I was told you were all specially recruited for the fact that you have an extreme hate for the Empire. So, I'd like to know why you do."

There was silence, and then all of them laughed grimly. Catherine grinned, and nudged Oscar, who didn't smile back.

"Seems to me," Catherine said, after ignoring the glare Oscar gave her, "That you're trying to turn a botched mission into a summer camp moment." She turned her head, smiling at the circle of soldiers. "Jane, Ako; want to go paint our nails and talk about boys while the guys roast marshmallows." Ako laughed while Jane simply scowled angrily at the ground. Most of the squad shared a small chuckle before lapsing into silence again.

"Seriously though." Nick continued, looking each of them in the eye as the light faded. "Why do you fight?"

**_Like I said, next chapter is already written. My internet connections just so finicky that I never know when I'll have it. Should be soon though._**


	3. Chapter 3 Why We Fight

**_Again, this was oroginally two chapters, and it ended up being cut in half, which is why this one's a little short. Anyways, Enjoy!_**

There was dead silence now. Off in the distance, they could all here the very, very faint roar of vehicles and soldiers. A large army moving through the valley below. The Empire on the march.

"Well," Shaitel whispered, breaking the silence, "I suppose I'll go first." He looked Nick in the eyes. "If show and tell is an order sir."

Nick nodded.

"Well, I was born in eastern Gallia. Long time ago, long before you welps were born. To put it simply, I was born at a time when the Europa wasn't at war. I mean," He laughed, "If there's any such thing. Anyways, I grew up normal. I had a family, became a doctor, etc, etc. Then, the first war started." He raised his hands in a helpless sign. "I was just past the conscription age, but still able to enlist. So, I did. I-" He stopped for a second, nervously feeling his breast pockets.

"Anybody got a smoke?" He asked looking around the group.

"No smoking." Sam snapped quietly. "No fire of any kind."

"So much for summer camp." Catherine murmured, feeling a necklace she was wearing beneath her shirt. Everyone seemed a little nervous. Having an enormous army nearby did that.

"Sir," Ash whispered distantly, "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna smoke." Nick paused, then nodded to them all. Ash pulled out a small carton and put one in with a sigh before passing the box around to the rest of them.

"Don't get comfortable." He murmured through his cigarette as he lit it. "You're all payin' me back later." Silently, they all puffed on their cigarettes, except Sam, Catherine, and Nick, who didn't smoke, and Solomon, who had a thick cigar in-between his teeth.

"Anyways," Shaitel continued, "I had a wonderful life, and I threw it all away for war. My wife tried to warn me…" He shook his head, as if ridding himself of a fly. "Anyways, I learned about a year into my term that Imperial troops had raided across the border, attacked our village. By the time I got there…" Shaitel fell silent, puffing on his smoke. "When I find the one who ordered the attack, I'll show him what a pissed solider with a degree with medicine and a scalpel can do."

"I-I have a similar story." Gabriel said, running his hand through his thin hair with a sigh. "Except mine was in a city within the Federation a few years ago. The Empire, in one of its many innovative attacks, decided to bomb the hell out of us until the Federation troops retreated. They didn't, so they switched to a new weapon. Gas."

Nick shuddered. They'd all heard of the supposed gas attacks along the Federation-Imperial front. The Empire and Federation both made a habit of not using it, but most soldiers were now forced to carry gas masks as part of their kits. Come to think of it, their squad hadn't been out fitted with them.

"_Wow_," He thought, rubbing a pebble between their hands. "_I guess this is a suicide mission."_

"Anyways," Gabriel continued, taking a long draw off his cig, "Mom and Dad send me into the shelter. They make it air tight as possible, then give me the only gas mask they happened to have. They ran trying to outrun Imps and gas, and I never heard from them again. Hair still hasn't grown back." He added, feeling the top of his head. "So, I'm fighting to find the bastard who ordered the attack…And make him squirm."

"Ah," Andrew murmured, patting his new friend on the back. "Revenge. There's something an idea I can get behind. See, I grew up in the Empire-" The boy was interrupted by the sound of three sidearms, and one hatchet being drawn.

"Easy guys!" Andrew exclaimed, raising his hands towards the raised barrels. "I grew up in the eastern provinces of the Empire, one of many conquered by the Empire. My town took pity on a family of traveling Darcsens, taking them in. The Empire disapproved of our kindness and deployed a division to…discipline the 'rebels' we took in."

"Darcsens." Ash spat. "Serves you right."

"And what about you!?" Catherine whispered dangerously. "I suppose you've got a grand noble reason for fighting."

"I'm a bastard." Ash declared simply. This drew a few snorts of laughter from the men and women around him, but his eyes were dead serious.

"I mean it." He growled. "First Europan War, my mother is wandering the desert with the rest of our semi-nomadic tribe. We lived well enough, moving from watering hole, to watering hole. An Imperial patrol found us. Killed most, took the women captive." Ash spat his burned out cigarette away. "I was born nine months later. She killed herself after that in shame, and I was raised by her neighbors. Of course, I was treated differently. Looked down on for being the spawn of an Imperial."

"However," he continued, pulling a small dog tag he was wearing from his neck, "According to them, she grabbed this from the man's uniform before he…finished. So, I have a name."

"And when you find him?"

"I'll say, 'Hi dad', then slot a bullet through his brain. With a smile on my face." He ended his sentence with an almost dreamlike grin hanging loosely from his lips. Nick was pretty sure a universal chill went down the spines of everyone there. Even Jane looked disturbed.

"And Ako."

"My sister and I were daughters of a wealthy man that lived in the Empire." She explained. "He however, was not our real father, but had taken us from a village he raided during the war. See," she explained, "He was a big wig during the war. One famous for raiding. Evidently he thought we'd make good sport when we grew up. My older sister got of age first." She grinned at them. "I stabbed him in the nuts when he came after me. My sister and I got away, and that man has one less nut as I recall."

This drew a laugh from all the women, even Jane. However, the men for once looked truly scared.

"You…You stabbed a guy in the balls." Solomon whispered hoarsely. On either side of Ako, Ash and Shaitel edged away from her nervously.

"Yep," she declared, drawing a knife from beneath her jakcet. It was almost leaf shaped, starting thin at the hilt, widening substantially, and then narrowing again at the tip. "With this knife.

"Nicely done." Sam said quietly with a grin. "So you've got your vengeance."

"Not quite." She admitted. "He had a son. A soldier. He hunted both of us for months while we tried to flee the country. We got away to Gallia, but my sister is dead at his hands. And I won't rest till the man's line is ended." Jane, Catherine, and Sam were still sniggering behind their hands, while most of the guys looked simply looked disturbed.

"Imps killed my wife." Solomon said simply. "Won't say nuthin' more than that. And you?" He asked, turning to Samantha.

"I'm a professional solider." She said, not really paying attention. "I kill people, who try to kill me, who try to kill…and so on and so forth."

"That's it." Nick said, looking back and forth between the two. "No grand story of revenge? No tragic sob story?"

"If it helps," Solomon grinned, "I'm pretty sure I'm a bastard too." He looked around, checking everyone's faces. Nobody was smiling. He sat back crossing his arms with a frown. "Well, I thought it was hilarious."

"Fail." Ako answered, her bright teeth grinning in the dark. "Epic fail, man." This drew some chuckles from the group as they watched interestedly.

"And you commander." Sami asked. "Why do you fight?"

"Well," Nick said, leaning back against a tree. "It was ten years ago. I'm sure Oscar remembers this story."

"Indeed." He agreed, rubbing the scar on his forehead. "You sure you want to tell this?"

"Everyone else opened up. And our little group therapy session won't be finished till I have." Nick shifted on the ground, moving so his gun didn't dig into his thigh. "Oscar and I came from the same village in western Gallia. One day, a deep penetrating Imperial raiding party hit us, overrunning us. They rounded everyone up, and killed them." Nick saw Oscar start, but stay silent. Still, the young man was watching him suspiciously.

"So, that's all." Ash asked.

"That's all." Nick shot a warning glance at Oscar, who looked away, turning to the valley below.

"And how were you involved?" Andrew asked Oscar, looking at him suspiciously.

"I lived in the same village." He answered grimly. "Imperials came after my brother and me. I protected him, but got shot in the process." He pointed at the knotted scar on his forehead. "Took a brain surgeon three days to save me."

"The Imperials are still moving." Nick interrupted suddenly. "We should get some sleep."

"Anyone want to take first watch." Andrew whispered, already turning over into his dreams.

"Nick," Oscar said pointedly. "We'll take first watch, all right?"

"Actually," Nick said hesitantly, "I'm already asleep-"

"Just take it." Jane interrupted. "I get grumpy without my beauty sleep." Gabriel and Ash sniggered quietly, but immediately fell asleep when Jane threw a withering glare at them. Even in the dark it looked intimidating.

"Yeah," She yawned eyelids falling, "that's what I thought."

* * *

Gradually, they all fell to sleep, softly breathing, hiding their bodies beneath the brush and camouflaging themselves with dirt. Oscar and Nick sat on the raised root of a tree, watching the forest. There was a large moon tonight. Not full, but large enough to cast an eerie glow in-between the trees.

"No movement." Oscar whispered, scanning with his rifle's scope. "Now, are you going to tell me why you didn't tell them the whole truth?"

"Not to sound like a clique, but I can't handle the truth." Nick answered with a glum look on his face. "I've barely thought about that day for years. I've tried to forget-"

"But you can't." Oscar interrupted, understandingly. "I know what you mean."

"No you don't." Nick disagreed. "I have an extremely good memory. Photographic actually. I still remember that day as clearly as if I was watching it happen in front of me right now. If I wanted to, I could watch it like I do a movie."

"Ah," Oscar shook his head in sympathy. "The eternal torture."

"Yeah." Nick rasped. "Yeah, but…I should have told them I guess. It's only fair."

"Well, I'm sure they kept somethings to themselves."

"Yeah. So, how's your brother?" Nick asked. "I haven't seen him since that day?"

"Fine." Oscar said. "He's planning to join up later this year. We were going to be in the same corp, but it doesn't look like that's possible now. So…Have you heard anything from Chelsea?"

Nick sighed and hung his head. His hands hung helplessly at his side. "Nothing. I used all the connections I had, followed every lead, but once the war started, it became impossible to cross the Imperial border."

Oscar jumped down from the bough they were sitting on, sliding his rifle over his shoulder and staring up at the white moon. "So, you've given up, or is that what this mission is really-"

"I won't endanger this mission for something like that." Nick snapped, then his voice softened. "But I don't want to give up. Not yet. And if I get the chance..."

"I know." Oscar said. He looked over his shoulder, then turned back, looking up at the moon. "I'd do the same if I were you. That day haunts me still, and we both have scars to remind us of that. Yours just don't show."

"Awfully emotional tonight, aren't we." Nick growled, jumping down after his friend.

"Don't worry, tomorrow I'll be back to my usual grumpy self."

Nick laughed, letting some of the worry flow out of him. "Right. Well, I'll see you tomorrow. We've got a long march ahead of us."

**_Next chapters already written, should be up soon. Please read and review. It doesn't take that long :)_**

**_Oh, and does anyone know where I can look up personel profiles for all the characters. It's really, really annoying to have to keep checking the PS3 everytime I want to double check something._**

**_Also, thanks to Cloner 4000, who pointed out that, in a combination of pot and sleep induced confusion (Okay, just sleep) I made Emile a girl. My bad. I reposted and fixed this. Reaaaly sorry!_**


	4. Chapter 4 Gruffy

**_Okay, a new chapter. So, I have a question; Does anybody else's stories change when you upload them. Mine keep on erasing the spaces between the words, which is annoying me to no end. _**

**_Sorry, just had to ask. Anyways, enjoy!_**

Sgt. Reynolds, or as everyone called him, Gruffy, was generally not a man of high spirits. Typically, his luck ran lower than most, probably more of a result of poor planning on his own part, rather than providence. He'd been born poor, his family having to scrap a living off the industrial sector of Fouzen. Being Darcsens, this made them the lowest of the low.

At first, EW1 had seemed like a boon for him. A chance to get out and try his luck in the real world. He'd promised his parents he would come back rich and alive. However, the war had shown Gruffy that soldiers had the same prejudice as the rest of the world. Once again, he was forced to scavenge and fight; Not only the enemy, but his own comrades. Then came civilian life.

Of the nine businesses he'd started as a civilian, seven had been catastrophic failures, with the other two only being minor failures. Broke, pretty much without any remaining options, Gruffy did something he swore he would never do again; He went to a small school and got an education.

Of course, the school was a mechanics training college, andthe education was a six month course in fixing engines. Still, it gave Gruffya way to survive and pay back his enormous debt. More importantly, when war next came, it got him out of the infantry, and into a tank. This proved to be the most profitable thing that had ever happened to him.

"Yo Cameron!" Gruffy yelled down into the tank hatch. "You want to get out of there!? The battalions stopped!"

There was a rustling down below, followed by a loud clang and a vulgar curse. "Gruffy!" Cameron yelled back up. "If you're not going to help keep this piece of junk going, you could at least not make me smash my head on the ceiling every five minutes."

"Come one you sack of lard." Gruffy said, ignoring that last comment as he pulled the rest of his legs out of the hatch. "We've got some merchandise to pick up." Cameron's head popped out of the hatch, a smear of grease and dirt on his face.

"Oh, and one thing." Gruffy added before socking Cameron under the chin. He heard the tank driver fall into the hatch, followed by more cursing. "Don't ever make fun of my baby. The _Bargain_ _Hunter_ is the best damn tank in the army."

Gruffy let his hand slidealong the armored side of the tank affectionately. The old girls name was well earned. Since entering the army a few years before EW2, Gruffy had turned a handsome profit on the back of this girl. She was certainly aptly named; half her surface was covered in crates of everything from shovels to whiskey. Using his connections in the lower dregs of society, Guffey could get about everything he, or anyone else, needed. That fact was not lost on the battalion commander, who allowed him to stay in business for just that reason.

Of course, war had only helped widen Gruffy's market. Rumors had reached High Commandabout a major Imperial Offensive. And, while at first slow to respond, they had finally dispatched the 2ndMobile Armor Battalion to defend Fouzen, along with other elements of the army.

Their Battalion Commander, a hot-shot in Gruffy's opinion, had nearly been fired arguing against it. He claimed that armor wouldn't be suitable in Fouzen's terrain, and that, unless supported by more infantry, the battalion wouldn't stand a chance.

Naturally, High Command hadn't listened and had sent them anyways, which was fine by Gruffy. He'd wanted to start expanding his bussiness anyways, and campaigning gave him just such a reason. On this particular venture, Gruffy wanted to talk with an old business associate who claimed to have enough booze and paddleballs to last his customers a lifetime. Oddly enough, paddleballs sold surprisingly well on the front.

"_Too much time on their hands." _Gruffy thought, lighting a cigar in his mouth as he tramped through the mud towards the house he was looking for. The battalion had stopped to refuel at a town name Amblin on its way to Northern Gallia. The woman he was looking for happened to run the Amblin Bar; a woman named Selena, who Gruffy knew from his time in the First War.

As he approached the bar, he had to admit it looked very dead. Not that a lot of people drank at eight in the morning, but still. He rapped his knuckles on the door, waiting. Finally the door opened, and revealed a lady, maybe forty or late thirties, with long black curly hair that fell just past her shoulders, and a very big double barreled shotgun in her hands.

"What do you want?" She demanded, pressing the barrel against Gruffy's admittedly hard to miss stomach. Her green eyes glared at him sharply. "I don't open till later, so unless you've got special business, I sugges-" She stopped, her eyes wide as she stared at Gruffy's face. For a second she gaped, then threw the shotgun to the side, and hugged him.

The emotional moment was ruined as the shotgun went off, sending a shell flying through the air, hitting the side of the _Bargain Hunter. _There was a dull thud as one of the crates on the sidebroke, sending liquor spilling from its side.

"Aww damnit!" Gruffy said, pulling away from her embrace to look back at the tank. "Hey Cameron! Try and catch that liquor in something!" Gruffy began sprinting towards the tank as fast as his clumsy body would take him.

"With what Sarge?" Cameron said, trying to stem the flow with his hands. Gruffy looked around quickly, then grabbed a spare ragnite fuel can of the back of his tank, andemptied it onto the ground.

"Here." He growled, shoving the empty can into Cameron's hands. "Take care of this. I've got to talk to our business partner." He stormed over to her, trying to puff himself up in his heavy tank man's uniform, trying to look bigger. Somehow though, the woman didn't look intimidated.

"I hope you realize that you're paying for that." Gruffy demanded angrily. "That was a three hundred year old Chateau de Serleon you just busted."

"Please," She shot back, rolling her eyes. "More likely than not, that was a bunch of boxed wine with three hundred year old looking labels from Chateau de Serleon."

Gruffy, unable to say she was wrong, just spat his cigar on the ground and dug his heel into it. "That doesn't change the fact that your shotgun just chewed through fifty ducats of merchandise. Now pay-" Gruffy was interrupted by the shotgun's barrel promptly being shoved into his mouth.

"Shut up and get into the bar." Selena snapped. "Your craps been sitting there forever, and I'm tired of chasing off patrons trying to steal your stuff."

"Aww," Gruffy said, leaning in towards her as they walked to through the door. "I didn't think you cared."

"Take some advice," Selena suggested, pushing him away. "From one Darcsen to another; wash your damn hair."

"Ah, as coarse as ever. But you know you can't resist my devilish good looks and charm." To show her, Gruffysmiled wide, exposing everyone of his crooked teeth.

"Gruffy, you are fat, bald, and a pathetic excuse for a soldier." She said, kicking him in the shin.

"Oww!" Gruffy yelled, hopping on one foot in pain.

"Oh, and a gentlemen takes off his hat before entering a house." She grabbed his tank commander's cap, pulling it off with a tug. Her voice had gone softer, and she seemed to be a little gentler. "Now, are you going to grab your stuff, or what."

"Just a moment." He assured, then leaned his head out the front door.

"Cameron!" He yelled. "Get over here." Gruffy popped his head back in. "I've got a new lackey." He grinned as he waited, looking at his old friend and bussiness partner.

"I hope he gets paid more than I did."

Paid?" Cameron exclaimed, overhearing their conversation as he stepped into the bar. "You were paid?"

"Wow." Gruffygrowled, kicking his young driver as he walked by. "You are making this an expensive day." Gruffy, waved at the stacks of crates, picking one up while Cameron shouldered the heaviest. "Well, we'll take our stuff and leave."

"Gruffy…" Selena said, as he started to walk out the door. Cameron stopped for a moment, but Gruffy indicated for him to continue with a jerk of his head. He let the crate fall with with a sigh.

"Yeah?"

"Be careful out there." Selena said, turning her head as he face blushed. She reached into the pocket of her apron, and pulled out a small bundle of cash clipped together by a small butterfly shaped clip. "I-I've been saving up for a while. When you get back…" She blushed again, and looked away as she wiped a strand of hair from her face.

Gruffy, ever ignorant in these types of situations, grabbed the money andlooked at it, astounded. "Where'd you get all this?" He cried hoarsely, flipping through the bills. "There's got to be a few thousand ducat in here!"

"Saved up." She murmured proudly, "Anyways, once this war is over, you want to go ahead and go AWOL?" She looked up at him, any color she had left gone. Rather, she looked pale in terror.

"Wait a second," Gruffy cried in sudden realization, still apparently not listening. "You've been holding out on me!?"

"What!?" She cried, her face suddenly very red again.

"Yeah!" All that time I was broke, you had thousands of ducats lying around in your apron!"

Gruffycouldn't get any farther, because a secondlater her foot connected with his groin. The massivesoldier fell to his knees, groaning before a second kick to the face broke his nose and threw him into the street.

"Why you lousy-" A second strike from the small woman silenced him, leaving him with several seconds spinning vision.

"Anddon't come back here again!?" She yelled, slamming the door behind her. Gruffy realized to late what was going on, and pulled himself to his feet. Rubbing his nose irritably, he was wandered back to the column, which was beginning to rev up its engines in preparation for travel.

"What are you looking at?" He snapped at Cameron as he jumped through the top of his tank, sitting in the commander's seat.

"Nothin' boss." He said, starting the _Bargain_ _Hunter's_ engine. It choked, looked like it wouldn't start, then roared to life. "You just got a way with the ladies."

"Just drive boy." Gruffy murmured, feeling into his pocket. He pulled out the money clip, admiring the way the silver of its metal caught the light. Not to mention the fact that it was full of money.

"Well," he said, watching the small town disappear beyond the horizon, pocketing the clip and the money. "Finders keepers."

**_Trust me, this will all make sense later_**


	5. Chapter 5 New Intel

**_Please review and tell me who you want to see in this story._**

"Sooo," Nick asked, staring down into the village from his squad's position in the rocky hills surrounding it. "Is it occupied? How many Imperials are there?"

The squad had marched all morning, carefully keeping off the roads and trails, hiding in the long grass and brush. The entire way, Imperial patrols had dogged them, obviously on the lookout for a group of Gallian rebels.

Finally, they'd come across a village nestled between the rocky hills of the Gallian-Imperial border. Like most of the border towns, it was being secured by the rearguard of the Imperial Army as a supply base. Imperial soldiers were rounding up townspeople, including a few who looked like they'd been fighting for a few hours. Probably town watchmen. Nick had promptly gone ahead with

"Enough." Oscar whispered from his position in a tree above them. "No sign of armor though. At least we don't have to worry 'bout that."

"Yeah." Nick agreed. Still, I don't like it. What do you think Catherine?" There was silence. "Catherine?"

"Tea anyone?" he heard her say. Turning, Nick saw Catherine, sitting as if they weren't in the middle of the thick woods of Eastern Gallia surrounded by an Imperial advance that was crushing Gallian resistance across the frontlines.

"You know," Oscar said, shouldering his rifle irritably. "I could be wrong, but I think our job was to scout out the village, not pour tea and discuss the goddamn weather!" His voice steadily got lower as he looked around nervously.

"Oh, lighten up all ready." She said, taking a sip from a cup in her hands.

"Say, where'd you get those cups anyways? And how'd you cook tea without a fire?"

"Those are questions better left unanswered." Catherine answered. She gingerly placed the tea cup back on the ground and carefully sidled up to Nick and Oscar. "Well, I see at least two full squads of twenty men down there. What do you want to do?"

Nick considered his options. On the one hand, the village was Gallian. The people would no doubt support them and, judging by the town watchmen who were being rounded up in the town square, had already tried to resist. If they could free them, they could not only take back a town, but cut what Nick guessed was a vital supply base.

"Tell the squad to suit up. Weapons and ammo only." Nick began backpedaling slowly into the trees, followed closely by Catherine and Oscar. Once they were sure they were out of sight, they turned, running at a slow trot into the woods. They continued for several minutes, until they came across what amounted to their base camp; a couple of beds made from small piles of leaves and a small stack of weapons carefully hidden by natural camouflage.

Ako was the first to greet them. Unfortunately, she greeted them by kicking Nick in the fork of his legs.

"What the hell?" He gasped as he toppled over, grasping his groin. "What was that for?"

"Dunno." She said, brushing past him to her rifle and supplies. "We taking the Imps down?"

"Yeah, probably." Catherine said, grabbing extra ammo and slinging it over her shoulder. "There's at least a standard squad down there, but with a little surprise on our side, we should be able to remove them nice and quietly."

"Yep." Nick agreed, helped to his feet by Oscar. "We'll move in at night, and roll over them once they're asleep."

"Nice." Ako said, shaking people await with her foot. "Night house calls."

"All right!" Nick barked, waking up the sleeping soldiers. "We've got Imps in the hole down there." He grinned as the soldiers groaned and rolled out of blankets and holes in the ground. "Let's go bury them."

"I know I speak for the whole squad when I say this mission should be postponed till later." Gabriel said, turning back over in his sleep. "The Imps will wait."

"Roaches never wait." Jane said, getting to her feet. "And it's good to start the day with a bit of Imp blood."

Nick raised an eyebrow.

"Helps me wake up." Jane explained, locking a clip into her weapon.

"See, most people would have a cup of coffee." Solomon tilted his head at her. "You don't have a lot of boyfriends, do you?"

"Not as many as you." She shot back in a low growl.

" Ooooh." Andrew said mockingly. "That'll shut him up."

"If only." Sami murmured, shouldering past them to Nick. She had her long barreled machine gun hanging from her shoulder by a strap. "Orders sir?"

"Here's what we'll do." Nick explained, kneeling on the ground as the rest of the squad formed into a circle around him. "Sami, you'll take most of the squad and wait for our signal along that crest." He pointed back towards the town. It was nestled between to hills, and Nick was indicating the closest northern one.

"Right." She said. "And you?"

"I will take Shaitel and Ash, and pay the village a visit from the opposite road." He pointed down at the dirt road leading up to the village. "We'll need some type of disguise of course."

"I'm a fan of the old man routine." Shaitel suggested. "With you two as my charges meant to keep me out of trouble."

Nick nodded. "Sounds reasonable." Turning, he addressed the rest of the squad. "Once we have the guards attention, you guys better haul ass, because we won't last long against them. Catherine and Oscar, I'll need some very good cover here."

"Don't you worry about a thing." Catherine assured. "Imps won't know what hit them."

"Good." He nodded, talking mostly to himself. "Try and not destroy their supplies. Scavenge whatever you can and grab the townspeople before they can become hostages."

There was a chorus of affirmatives and casual "yes sirs" that hid the enthusiasm the soldiers were giving off. They were ready and eager, and the best analogy Nick could find for them was a pack of wolves pulling against their leashes. Nick grinned. This was gonna be fun, in a sick gruesome way.

* * *

Shaitel and his two companions had left their rifles and mags back with the rest of their squad, trading them for hand weapons and pistols that they could keep concealed beneath the ragged cloaks they'd stolen from one of the outlying farms. Shaitel himself was leaning on a knotted stick that he pretended helped him walk. They looked like a couple of lowly travelers who were down on their luck.

Shaitel, hiding his burned face and scraggily remains of his beards by putting his hood well over his eyes so it shadowed his face. Besides him, Ash was limping on his injured ankle, but claimed it was starting to heal. Shaitel, having examined it, doubted it would ever be good as new, but the boy could walk and run well enough.

On the other side of him, Nick was whistling happily, acting like a nonchalant youth without a care in the world. As they began to enter the village and the Imperial Squad came into view, he just kept whistling even as he counted the number of Imperials on the perimeter. As they continued, waving to the Imperials, he began murmuring a tune from a song.

"The brave twenty of gave plenty for the four off the road, but never received the due they were owed." He kept murmuring the song, just loud enough for the faceless Imperials to hear, as they walked into the nest of Imperials.

"_Twenty four, with four others hidden in the village."_ Shaitel thought to himself. It was an idea they'd come up with before, a plan to pass information.

"Halt." An Imperial officer with a thick eastern accent said He was wearing the sharp black uniform of an officer, complete with bright shoulder pads and medals on his chest. "State your business here."

"I'm called Niel." Shaitel said in a raspy voice. "An' these two be me grandsons."

"We're helping the old man back to a village over yonder." Ash offered. "The old codger ain't wha he used to be, and he's goin a bit in the brain."

This earned the young man a sharp rap on the shin from the walking stick Shaitel carried. Ash jumped back and winced as he twisted his other ankle slightly.

"Forgive the young boy." Shaitel continued, a pleasant and benign smile on his face. "We merely want to pass. I am an old doctor and performer."

"Performer." The officer said, grinning widely at the old man's charming antics. "Whatever do you do?"

"Lotta things!" The old man exclaimed cheerfully. "I'm a jack-of-all-trades, doncha know."

"Perhaps you could take a look at one of our men." One of the Imperials said, lowering his weapon and looking at the captain. "Darrel took a bullet to the side from these towns watchmen." He now turned to Shaitel. "He's been bleeding a lot, and we can't seem to stop it."

"I'll take a peep." Shaitel said, waving for Ash and Nick to follow. "Where is the boy?"

"In here." Another soldier yelled, waving him over to a single floor building with no windows. They entered quickly shutting the door behind them to keep out the biting morning cold. Inside, there was a soldier, missing most of the intimidating armor the Imperials wore and bloodying the side of the table he lay on.

The officer yelled for his men to keep an eye on the townspeople, then hurried to follow them inside.

"We managed to stop the bleeding a few times." One of the troopers at his side said. There were two, plus another that followed them in, and the officer. "But it keeps opening up."

"Let me see here." Shaitel said, kneeling down next to the man. Nick and Ash hung back with the officer and the trooper that had followed them in. Shaitel caught their glances, then turned back to the soldier, looking into his wound. He immediately saw the problem.

The wound wasn't huge, but there were fragments of the bullet inside that kept reopening the wound. No amount of Ragnaid could pull the bullet fragments out, and the wound would just keep reopening. Again, Shaitel discreetly caught Nick's eye. He nodded, shifting inside his ragged clothes.

"I'll need something like a pair of tweezers." He said, looking around the room. The soldier standing by the door nodded and rushed into the other room to search the other two stayed, trying to reassure their friend.

"It'll be all right Darrel." One cooed softly as Darrel looked up to see who was fiddling with his insides.

"Yeah soldier." The other said. "We found a doctor. He'd gonna fix you up real nice."

"Thatshs good." Darrel murmured, falling back down on the table.

Shaitel looked up again, catching Nick's eye again and saying to the officer. "Come and take a look at this."

The officer obliged, worry crossing his face. He'd no doubt heard that from doctors before, and it never meant something good. As he bent over to look into the wound where Shaitel was pointing, Nick and Ash drew their knives and began approaching the distraught soldiers from behind.

"You see these." Shaitel murmured, pointing out the fragments of the bullet.

"Yeah." The officer said back distantly as he continued scanning the wound.

"You know how I said I was a performer." Shaitel whispered. "I can see the future."

"This is no time for jokes." The officer said sharply, but stopped as Shaitel waved his hand.

"I know. I'm not joking." He continued, using his best old man voice, but letting a small bit of venom slip into it; just enough to get his blood pumping.

"Fine." The officer said, smiling. "Then what do you see."

Shaitel looked up at him. their faces were mere inches from each other. "You. Bleeding."

With that, he cocked his head back and brought his forehead into the officer's nose. The man fell back, his face in shock as the old man drew a scalpel from his rags and jammed it into the man's thick neck. Behind Shaitel, he heard the smallest scuffling as Nick and Ash each ran their knives across the soldiers necks, lowering them to the ground silently.

The wounded man, still slipping in and out of consciousness, just lay there, his mind unable to process what had just happened. Nick and Ash made a signal that they were going for the last man in the other room.

"Trooper!" Shaitel shouted as Nick and Ash waited by the door. "He's struggling! Get in here and help me hold this man down!"

The Imperial soldier, abandoning his search for something to remove the bullet fragments, thundered back into the room, and ran straight into Ash's fist. For a second, it looked like Ash had just pounded on the man's chest with his fist, but as he moved his hand away it left the wooden handle of a knife in his chest. Nick rushed and cut the man's throat before he could scream.

"No chest nonsense!" Nick hissed. "Hit the throat. They don't scream that way."

"No fun in that." Ash shot back, yanking his knife out of the man's sternum. It pulled out slowly, covered with blood and bone. Ash pulled out a name tag, the one his mother had given him, and began checking dog tags of the soldiers in the room.

"Stop that!" Shaitel yelled, knocking Ash's arm down. "You can do that later"

Ash looked like he might argue, then just nodded and followed Nick around to the other side of the house. They threw away their ragged cloaks and picked up the Imperials discarded ZM-MPs, the Imperial version of the personal machine gun. They threw extra clips into their belts, then picked up three grenades the deceased Imperials wouldn't need anymore, rushing over to the door. They began tying them together creating, what Ash called a shaped explosive. Basically, it was an explosive that only blew one way, excellent for breaching a door. Then, they began rigging it to go off at the pull of a string, and attached it to the door handle.

This was the part that would call for perfect timing, and a great deal of care on Shaitel's part. Before Ash armed the grenades and attached them to the door, Shaitel opened the door urgently, yelling, "I need some men in here to help me with this man! He's flailing to much!"

The Imperial Squad didn't question him, sending four of their men trotting from the circle of prisoners. Shaitel slammed the door shut while they were still twenty feet away, then hurried to the back of the room, watching Ash at work. He first attached the grenade to the nearby wall, wedging it into a small ledge. Then, he attached the string that was attached to the pins of the grenade to the door handle. After that, he leapt to the other side of the room, taking cover with Nick and Shaitel.

"This is gonna be so awesome!" He whispered excitedly, then ducked his head.

The Imperials were at the door now. When they turned the knob, they started that ten second countdown that would end with the grenade's explosion. Then, they were stymied by how the door would not open any farther than an inch, restrained as it was by the string holding it to the immobile grenades that were so tightly wedge into the crevice in the wall. For about ten seconds, they pushed. Then, the entire wall was engulfed in blue flame.

* * *

Nick had no mercy for Imperials. He simply hated them. However, he still shot the Imperials writhing on the floor before they burned to death, in case they could be threats later. Ash followed him, spraying the Imperials down the road with bullets despite their ineffectiveness at that range. The Imperial's though were under attack from both sides.

From the sloping hill to the North, there were cracks of rifles being fired at extreme ranges. The rest of the squad was using fire and advance tactics, using the cover the foliage provided spray fire on the confused Imperials. The sniper fire claimed two more, and another was shredded by the familiar spray of Sami's heavy machine gun. Unfortunately, two civilians were also caught in the fire.

The confused Imperials, unable to comprehend what was happening, fell back away from their captives. They would never have expected Gallian's to risk the lives of hostages, and had been banking on that to give them an early advantage. The loss of that advantage, and the ruthlessness it entailed, unnerved them.

Nick and Ash however had a different job. There were still two other Imperials hidden in the homes surrounding the town. They'd just killed two, and the other two, snipers, were somewhere above where they could deal the most damage. Nick pointed out where he'd seen them to Ash. They were on two second story buildings, both on the southern end of the town. If they escaped, their position would be betrayed.

Ash and Nick spilt up, hurrying up the stairs of each of the buildings. Nick was careful, checking corners with his Imperial Mag ready. However, there was no contact. Once he'd searched the entire home, ending on the second floor, in a bedroom.

It was a child's room, all pink fluff and stuffed animals that nearly hid the holes in the walls from stray bullets. Everything was pink. The bed, the toys, even the shuttered closet was pink. He turned over the bed and other pieces of furniture, looking for his man. The sniper had definitely been here. There were empty casings from 7.2mm caliber bullets scattered across the floor. The type of bullets used from the ZM-SG sniper rifle the Imps used.

Nick was looking around, contemplating whether the sniper could have already fled, when a slight movement to his left caught his attention. The shuttered doors of the closet had opened ever so slightly, but nothing moved on its own. Nick dove to the side, drawing his revolver as he did. Caution stayed his hand though. This was a kid's room; what if it was a kid? Then, any doubt left him as a bullet zinged from the closet between the blinds, grazing Nick's calf and cutting through the denim material of his pants.

Nick fired, aiming for the spot he'd seen the flash come from. The revolver, shooting a very big bullet for a pistol, shattered the wood of the closet as it passed through it and into the body of the sniper on the other side. Nick jumped to his feet, swung the ZM-MP around and sprayed the closet with bullets for good measure.

Keeping his ZM-MP trained on the door, he approached, curving around any line of sight the sniper might have had to approach the closet from the side. Reaching out tentatively, he reached into one of the many holes he'd made in its wooden frame and swung open. Spraying around the corner with his machine gun one more time for good measure, he took a deep breath, and stole a glance into the closet.

It certainly was a girl's room. Even the inside of the closet was pink. Well, except for the dead Imp sniper. He was very, very red. The sniper was riddled with bullet holes, and was just a mess. His left arm was only hanging by a strand of bloody muscle and shredded meat. Nick knew that's where one of his burst of fire had hit.

Picking up the man's rifle from his lifeless fingers, Nick shouldered it and any ammo he could scavenge of the body. Then, he thought about the little girl who would return to this room, and hauled the whole body up. No need to mentally scar fellow Gallians. That's what the Imps were for.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, their entire squad was back at the center of town, piling the twenty four dead Imperials in the center. Most of them were stripped of any clothe that wasn't heavy metal armor, and all were scavenged for ammo or weapons. Nick knew they couldn't take all the supplies with them, but the townspeople may want to for a resistance, and they would definitely need any medical supplies.

The town leader, a skinny man with the hands of a farmer, was seeing to the treatment of the wounded even as he organized the town watch and explained what had happened to Nick.

"The Imperial's came out of nowhere, along the southern road up from southern Gallia." The man pointed down at the small dirt road that ran between the two hills. "No tanks, but they said this whole area is no under their control now."

"Which indicates a larger army is in the area." Sami finished, looking at Nick, then back at the man. "Do you know who's in command?"

"The Imperials didn't say." The man answered. "But he seemed very confident about their safety."

"Right." Nick said, more to himself than anyone else.

If there was an army in the area, Nick figured the Empire had already taken the Citadel at Ghirlandaio. That meant that more Imperials would start flooding in now, and if what the towns watchmen said was true, then there were two Imperial armies, one moving through the North after having taken Ghirlandaio, the other moving south from the Kloden Wildwood.

"Bring me a map." He ordered the town's watchman briskly. "I need a map of Gallia."

The man stared for a moment, then rushed onto his errand. As he went, he explained his theory to Sami, who nodded.

"If I was the Empire," She explained, "I would do a pincer move to. It would let me take advantage of my superior numbers."

"The last thing we want is a war on a broad front." Nick agreed, taking the map from the watchman as he returned. "Go gather up the troops and get them ready to move."

He took a stub of pencil from his travel bag, tracing their location and the supposed locations of the Imperial armies. He did a few calculations regarding logistics, and began drawing the route and outlined bulges of where he thought the Imperials were. Standing back, he looked at his work.

The according to the locals and the map, their squad was on the extreme northern edge of the Kloden wilderness, pretty much in the eastern middle of Gallia. If what the man said was true and the Imperial squad came from the south, then the rest of the Imperial Army must have been working its way through the wilderness from the south, and the Imperial Forces they'd been encountering were moving across the north, towards Fouzen and Randgriz. A dual pronged attack at the industrial center and the political center.

"A strategic masterpiece." Nick murmured to himself as the rest of his squad gathered around him. "It's simple, elegant, and very, very bold."

"Great." Jane said impatiently. "How do we kill them?"

Nick glanced up at her, raising an eyebrow. "The way you kill anything this big; cut off the head."

**_Please review and send alerts, that way, I'll know whether anyone wants to see what else happens. Also, if anyone knows of a definitive timeline out there for when things happened in the game, along with dates, please send._**


	6. Chapter 6 Battle of Fouzen

**_Chapter 6. Please enjoy._**

"Cut off the head?" Solomon mused, his eyes looking up and to the left. Then he shook his head almost sadly. "You mean, kill the Emperor?"

"Nah, but whoever is in command of this expedition would no doubt be coordinating both the armies. Remove him, and the two armies would no doubt have trouble coordinating their actions."

"Okaaaayy, but what about the small issue of intelligence." Ako crossed her arms, looking annoyed. "We don't even know who's in command."

"We find out." Nick insisted. "And kill him."

"Or her."

"Or her." Nick agreed.

"Our orders were to create confusion behind the enemy's main line," Gabriel said, doubt in his voice. "Not start assassinating high ranking Imperials."

"Same effect, different route." Nick shot back. "We have an opportunity to break the Imperial advance. If we can stall the Empire a week, it would be worth it."

"And if we match the assassination of the commander with an offensive against either the north or the south, we could push the Empire out of Gallia." Sami nodded, seeing Nick's point

"Ambitious." Shaitel said. "But there is the small problem of having no idea where the commander would be."

"No, but I think I know where we can find out." Nick traced a path between the two armies and up towards Ghirlandaio. He then circled the mighty citadel with his finger.

"If I were the Empire, that's where I would set up my headquarters. Not only is it a major defensive area, it also serves as the main road for supplies and information going to and from the Empire."

"Not to mention the psychological effect of seeing the Empire in command of our greatest fortress." Sami added. "So you think that's where we'd find the enemy commander?"

"That, or where we'll find someone who can tell us where to find him." Nick rolled up the map, carefully folding it several times and putting it in his back pocket. "Either way, we need to decide what we do next."

The squad looked distant, as if pondering what they should do. On the one hand, trying to get to Ghirlandaio would be a dangerous feat, one that would probably end badly. There were at least two Imperial Armies advancing into Gallia, and these would all send out scouting and raiding parties for miles. The fact was that their squad would either have to carve a path through them, or sneak past them. Neither option was likely to succeed.

On the other hand, the people that Gallian High Command had given Nick to command were some of the most hateful, spiteful, angry soldiers you could ask for, and just the chance of killing Imperials gave them a euphoric high. Within a few seconds, there was universal nodding and reluctant agreement.

"And what about you?" Nick said, turning to the town watchman, who had stood far enough away to not hear the details. The skinny guy looked confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you can't stay here." Nick explained. "The Imperials will realize that something happened to their troopers and send reinforcements. And when they discover the bodies…" He faded off, letting the watchman imagine the rest.

"Your best option would to head back towards central Gallia." Sami suggested. "Towards where the rest of the Gallian army is making its stand."

"And while you're there, bring this intelligence to the Gallian High Command." Nick pulled the map out of his pocket, handing it to the man. "Tell them we are going to make an attempt at… massive confusion." He did not want to say exactly what their plan was, in case the man was captured. "They should try to prepare and offensive for when that happens."

The man nodded, then looked back at the pile of Imperial weapons and ammo, then back at Nick.

"Go ahead." Nick nodded. "Take what you need."

The man nodded happily, bobbing his head up and down before rushing to gather the townspeople up. With a small group like that, they should be able to keep ahead of the Imperials until safety, particularly with their knowledge of the land. What worried Nick now, was how he would get his squad into a place so heavily held by Imperials.

* * *

Zytreet followed the squad's trail for several miles before cursing, and returning back to base. After debriefing, he was ordered to return to special ops headquarters located in the rear of the battle line; The Citadel of Ghirlandaio.

Zytreet admired the massive stone structure as the train he'd been riding pulled up to it. It was massive and simply impenetrable. Imperial work crews were laboring almost constantly to complete the orders Maximilian had given. He truly wanted an impenetrable fortress, something the Gallians would fear to even attempt an attack against.

As Zytreet hurried his way through the fortress, he was dimly aware that his uniform was still splattered with the mud from the road, and that his was leaving a trail of said filth everywhere he went. He winced slightly at the thought of what his commander would say, then shook it off.

Walking through the fortresses convoluted passageways; he could see why the Intelligence and Special Ops commander had placed their headquarters deep within the citadel's basements and rarely used buildings. Down here, it was easy for anybody, even someone familiar with the building, to get lost. However, Zytreet knew exactly where he was going.

He turned sharply, turning to face a black door that was deliberately placed in the corner between a wall and one of the pillars that lined the wall. It seemed to suck light in rather than give it off, and even Zytreet felt it looked a touch ominous. Opening it, he stepped inside.

It was a typical war room to his eyes. Everything was brightly lit, with soldiers of all forms rushing from desk to desk carrying messages and new orders. Standing in the middle was Zytreet's commander, Mash, who had turned to see who had entered.

"Zytreet." He greeted his soldier calmly, obviously not carrying about the trail of filth he'd dragged in. "Come in. I need to hear your report exactly."

Zytreet was confused for a moment, but his soldier instincts kicked in and he obeyed the order, sitting down at a nearby desk.

"Sir, I was debriefed back at forward command. Is there a reason I'm to be debriefed now?"

"Insurance." Mash said, waving a hand at the many pieces of expensive and top of the line communication equipment. "Machines can be tricked and fooled with. Besides," He smiled at Zytreet, "This is a reason for old friends to get back together."

Zytreet smiled wryly. "It's been a long time since we worked together. EW1, huh."

"Yes, and now another Gallian front is started."

Zytreet and Mash had worked together during the previous war in Gallia, fighting in the same squad together. Mash had been a sniper then, while Zytreet fought up front as a scout. After the war, their many raids and daring attacks had called for promotions, with Mash being put in command of all special operations on the Gallian front. Back in EW1, he'd been called Mash the Hunter, and he applied that hunter's attitude again in this war, pursuing enemy partisan bands and political leaders across the country. As Zytreet explained what had happened to most of his squad, the ambush, the booby trapped bodies, he could see the man's face growing increasingly intrigued.

"So it isn't an ordinary militia unit, but rather, a group of guerrillas that are supposed to create confusion and fear behind our line."

"A disconcerting notion." Zytreet added.

"But not unstoppable." Mash grinned. "They're playing a game of cat and mouse, a game they can't win in the long run." He pulled out a map, running his hand over the areas the Empire already controlled.

"Gregor and his forces are already striking north towards Fouzen, and will soon destroy any lingering Gallian forces there, and general Jaeger is clearing the Kloden Wildland and striking north to Randgriz. Assuming nothing goes wrong, the war should be over soon."

"Something always goes wrong." Zytreet pointed out.

"True." Mash looked thoughtful, then looked back at his friend, stroking the stubble of his roughly shaven face. "This guerrilla band is a danger, but there's little we can do about it now. The best option for us is to track their movements and figure out where they'll strike next."

"Agreed." Zytreet said, now looking at the map himself. "What's this town here?"

Mash leaned forward, reading the name. "Vasel."

"Vasel…" Zytreet murmured.

"Yes, it's the key to our assault on Randgriz." Mash explained, tracing the path of the Jaeger's Imperial army on the map. "We take Vasel, use its bridge to cross our heavy tanks and troops, it's a straight road to Randgiz." Zytreet cocked his head, pointing out the blue lines that extended north of the city. "The city also has canals that lead north to the North Sea. As soon as we take them, we're to dispatch troops north to take Gallian positions along the coast."

"And trap Gallian forces in Fouzen between them and Gregor." Zytreet finished. "It will certainly catch the Gallians by surprise."

"And hopefully prevent this from turning into a bloody slugging match."

Zytreet nodded. That was, after all, the goal of most special operations, to give one side that critical edge that could turn the tide. In the case of those Gallian rebels though…They had attacked no major targets, not important units. The only Imperials they'd destroyed had been those in their way. No, if that was how they fought, they were nothing more than fleas attacking a bear.

* * *

Gruffy felt his tank jerk sharply as Cameron threw it into a sharp turn to follow the convoy. Cursing violently, he grabbed the radio systems microphone attached to the top hatch of the tank and cranked yelled into it.

"Damn it Cameron! Slow down. You'll drop the merchandise!"

"Can't boss." Cameron radioed back from his position in the bottom of the tank. "Got to keep up with the convoy."

Gruffy growled angrily, and slammed the radio down with a shout of frustration. The convoy had been rushing north for the past day, not waiting to stop at any of the profitable looking towns and villages along the way. According to Gruffy's commander, the Imperials had finally made their assault towards Fouzen, making a stab towards the industrial of Gallia. As per their orders, Gruffy's tank battalion had been ordered north to block them. Of course, the Fouzen terrain, with its many canyons and high rocky hills, was unsuitable for tanks. Instead, the commander had them disobeying orders to make their stand on the more open rolling hills before Fouzen.

Gruffy himself was split on whether this was a good idea, or bad. On the one hand, the Imperial tanks, with their heavy fire power, were likely to plow through any defenses they set up regardless of how strong they were. However, perhaps a mobile defense on the plans would slow them down, and the light tanks the battalion was comprised of were made for just such a defense.

Now, the tanks were on the road, making good time to the area around Fouzen. There were forty tanks in the convoy, plus three trucks carrying ammo and fuel, and another two trucks carrying one standard squad of troops. The idea the commander had was to ambush the enemy's lead forces, let the enemy form up, then fall back. Forcing the enemy to repeat this multiple times, forming, moving and reforming, could buy them at least a day.

* * *

Two hours later, the battalion was formed up. All forty light tanks had been split into three groups. Green Leaf One was under the direct command of their commander and was acting as the main force that consisted of twenty tanks and the supply train. Green Leaf Two was the main battle line, fifteen tanks and infantry lying in wait along one particularly large hill, effectively hidden from the enemy's line of sight. The idea was that, as the enemy tanks drove over the crest, their weak points (the bottom) would be exposed to a volley of fire from the tanks, giving the light tanks enough time to escape.

The problem was that there was no guarantee that the enemy tanks would find themselves would drive over that ridge. For that, they needed Green Leaf Three. Gruffy found himself in command of Green Leaf Three. The five tanks of his command were lined up along a ridge in front of the entire line, where they had a commanding view of the plains and the rolling hills. It also made them a blatant target for the Imperial unit moving across the plain below.

Like most mobile scout units, the unit consisted of mechanized infantry loaded onto trucks and escorted by tanks and armored cars. They may have been relatively lightly armed, but they had enough speed and power to take many of the small towns and secure targets ahead of the main army. This particular group was made of five standard medium Imperial tanks and two squads of infantry. It seemed small, but it was a generally accepted fact that the Imperial tanks were vastly superior to Gallian or Federation tanks. They had longer range, heavier firepower, were faster, and even were considered less costly due to the vast Imperial production facilities that Gallia lacked.

Generally, Gallian tanks were defensive in nature, meant more for defending areas then attacking targets. Of course, this somewhat defeated the purpose of the tank as a mobile assault weapon. In fact, an attempt had been made by Gallian engineers to create a tank that could match Imperial tanks offensively, but it had proved too expensive. So, the Gallian tank corp made do with what it had.

Generally, the Imperial tanks had three weak points; the bottom, the rear, and the very small point between at the base of the turret where the heavy cannon connects to the rest of the hull. Hitting any of these points would, more often than not, result in the killing or crippling of an Imperial tank. Unfortunately, many Gallian tanks required only one or two hits from the Imperial tanks to receive massive damage, even from the front where most of their armor was located.

So, Gallian tank commander generally avoided the mass tank battles that were often found in battles between the Federation and the Empire. The Gallian tanks simply needed to be on the defensive, fighting from prepared fortifications. However, there was no way, in the open plains and rolling hills, for them to fight like this.

"Cameron, get ready to pull back off this ridge." Gruffy pulled up his binoculars, scanning the ridge. He did some quick calculations in his head, then brought up the rest of Green Leaf Three on his radio.

"All right boys, designate tanks as target Sparrow, and trucks as Badger."

There was a round of affirmatives and agreements, followed by each tank sounding off. Gruffy winced as he saw the range at which the Imperials were. A straight shot from this range would be impossible.

"All tanks, raise barrels thirty five degrees up, and turn to target enemy's location in thirty seconds."

The tanks, aiming so their shells would arc through the air and fall down on the enemy convoy. Admittedly, it would be highly inaccurate at this range, but Gruffy didn't even need to hit the enemy, just make his presence known.

"All right, quick fire for high explosive shells, then switch for hyper shot."

Hyper shot was the only tank shell generally acknowledged as effective against Imperial tanks, hyper shot was more like a cannon ball then an explosive shell. It relied more on the kinetic energy of the impact of its pointed tip to penetrate the armor, followed by an explosion. In short, it was armor piercing. However, it could not be used for arc shots.

"Gruffy, are we gonna be around long enough for hyper shot?" One of the other tank commanders asked.

"Fighting retreat." Gruffy pulled on the leather cap and radio headset worn by tank commanders, securing its strap under his chin. "We pull back to Green Leaf Two, and we join up with them."

"And if the Imp tanks tear us to pieces before that?"

"They won't." Gruffy insisted. "Now everybody strap in. Fifteen seconds."

The Imperial tanks were almost in their sights now. As Gruffy stared down the sight of the tank's barrel, he grinned to himself. He could see the lead tank, and enormous monster with a bull motif engraved on the side. It was far larger than the rest of the Imperial tanks in the line.

"Fire."

There was a roar inside the confines of the tank. Gruffy felt his whole body shake with the familiar recoil of the _Bargain_ _Hunter's_ cannon. The looking around outside the hatch, Gruffy watched as five shells, one from each tank, fell to the ground, leaving a stream of smoke trailing behind them as they did. From his position outside the tank, he could see the grey plumes of smoke and dust that rose as the shells impacted amongst the enemy convoy.

For a long while, the enemy was unseen, hidden by the rubble of the Gallian tanks attack. Gruffy stared with his binoculars, trying to see whether his tanks had caused any damage. A second later, his question was answered as a tank shell shot from the shadowy smoke, impacting on the front of the tank immediately to Gruffy's left. The tank jerked back sharply, its treads actually leaving the ground. For just a second, it looked as if the mighty tank was suspended in mid air. Then, it exploded with a searing heat. Gruffy ducked back into his tank as shrapnel whistled through the air, clattering on the side of _Bargain_ _Hunter_.

"All right; Green Leaf Three, let's get outta here." Looking down, he shouted, "Cameron, throw this thing in reverse."

"Copy boss."

The _Bargain_ _Hunter_ jerked backwards, its turret still facing forward towards. Gruffy watched as the smoke cleared and the Imperial tanks were revealed. The heavy tank with the bull motif was in the lead, its massive cannon already lining up for another shot. However, the Gallian tanks were already over the ridge and, as Gruffy lost sight of the tank, he glimpsed the five Imperial tanks moving towards them.

"Gruffy?" The battalion Commander radioed. "What's going on?"

"We have hard contact." Gruffy reported, looking down through his binos back up at the ridge where they'd just fled from the Imperial tanks. "Five enemy tanks moving in after us. They'll be coming in hot."

"Copy that. Move to Green Leaf Two and make form a battle line."

"Moving." Gruffy ground out as he watched the front edges of the Imperial tanks rise over the crest of the hill. He looked over his shoulder at the hill where Green leaf Two was supposed to be waiting. They had time, but there was no way they could get there before the enemy fired on them.

There was a flash of flame from the lead tank, and another one of the Gallian tanks went up in flames, its rear engine set aflame. As the fire rapidly grew hotter, the tank crew began evacuating, but was gunned down by machine guns from the rest of the tanks. They didn't have a chance.

Angered, Gruffy yanked the machine gun mounted near his hatch and swung it around towards the tanks, spraying fire and covering the tanks with sparks. It scattered a few of the infantry that were following the tanks, but otherwise did no damage. Gritting his teeth, Gruffy hid back down in the hatch of his tank as the enemy machine gunners returned fire.

"We need out of here Cameron!"

"On it." The young driver yelled back, and the tank jerked forward again, its speed redoubled. Gruffy patted the hull of the old machine. It felt as if his old girl felt the urgency of the situation and was running for her life.

Finally, Gruffy felt the _Bargain_ _Hunter_, rise up and dip sharply as they went over the top of the hill began charging down it. Gruffy looked over the top and down, at the base of the grassy hill was Green Leaf Two. The line of blue tanks was waiting, their cannons already trained on the area where the Imperial tanks should be pursuing them.

Gruffy ordered Cameron to position their tank in line with the rest, and target the hill. As Cameron obliged, Gruffy felt a cold sensation in his stomach, a feeling of dread and absolute fear. Watching the Imperial tanks heavy armored fronts rise over the hill, he couldn't help but feel that his world may have been coming to an end.

**_Next Chapters should come soon. I want to finish this story before the next game. Anyways, please read and review. Oh, and if you want me to continue, please put up an alert so I can see how many people are reading. Thanks!_**


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